Jenny's Luck
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: A couple who originally met on Fantasy Island when they were teenagers meet up again, but have to overcome some obstacles. Follows 'Impossibilities'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _Thanks again to Terry L. Gardner for the continued (and welcome!) reviews; also, thank you to Iron Guard for the insightful review o_f Impossibilities. _I had actually had a few ideas for weird fantasies/characters before hearing from you, so they are definitely in the future. In fact, the next story I plan to post will deal with one of them. Meantime, enjoy this one!_

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§§ § -- June 17, 1994—Los Angeles, California

Thirty-one-year-old Jenny Knight stretched up for the highest handle she could reach on the huge, colorful wheel and wrapped the fingers of both hands firmly around it, then squeezed her eyes shut and pulled on it, using all the weight she could. The wheel began to roll, beeping with each dollar fraction that passed the red arrow, while she took two or three steps back and tried again to figure out what she was going to do with that kayak she'd won after placing the winning bid that had first gotten her onstage.

Bob Barker—now white-haired, but still as sharp as ever and equally familiar—said into his microphone, "That was quite a spin! Let's see if Jenny's luck holds out, folks. First she won herself a kayak; then she played the Alps game and won a brand-new Toyota Celica. If she keeps going like this, she just…might…win…" As he spoke he watched the wheel, which had slowed considerably. Jenny came out of her thoughts and focused on the wheel as well, realizing that the big $1.00 figure was dipping ever closer to that crucial red arrow. Barker had timed his little impromptu speech like the consummate pro he was: as he said the word _win_, the $1.00 figure beeped onto the red arrow and came to a stop. "A thousand dollars! Jenny Knight wins one thousand dollars and goes on to the Showcase Showdown!" He beamed at Jenny, who gaped at him in disbelief for a moment before it sank in and she went over to stand underneath the lighted sign that now flashed $1.00. The TV camera followed her and she grinned foolishly into it, waving like a little girl.

"Cut!" yelled the director through his megaphone and the frenetic game-show music Jenny had heard ever since she was in elementary school ceased. Several stagehands came out to move props; cameras shifted; and a makeup girl trotted out and freshened Barker's already immaculate face. Jenny scuttled aside as the director impatiently waved her away and managed to locate Tara and Dania in the audience; they were both standing and waving like madwomen, screaming themselves hoarse.

_This can't be happening,_ Jenny told herself. She hadn't been at all sure about this whole venture. Since she and Dania had come to visit Tara at her gleaming new condo in Rancho Palos Verdes, this whole trip had been like a slice cut out of her normal dreary life. She and Dania hadn't heard from Ray in almost a year now, and they had decided things were settled enough that they could take some time off. Besides, Tara had been hounding Jenny for ages to come visit her in L.A. So here they were, and the very first thing Tara had done was announce that she had tickets to _The Price is Right_ and they were going, no matter what. However, the show was so popular that they hadn't actually been able to get in the door till today, Friday.

They'd slapped big yellow price-tag-shaped stickers bearing their names in fat black marker on the visitors' shoulders; Dania's name had been misspelled on the first try and they had to give her a new sticker. Then the three of them had squirmed through people to get the best seats they could find, which were no closer than the tenth row. Tara had decided that was more than close enough to see the stage, and they'd settled down in their seats and waited for the excitement to start. Jenny had always been skeptical of hysterically excited game-show contestants; but once the day's taping actually got under way and contestants were being selected, it was hard not to get caught up in the enthusiasm.

Then after the first commercial break, to her own shock and Tara's and Dania's shrieking delight, Rod Roddy's voice had boomed throughout the studio in response to Barker's request for a new contestant: "Well, let's see, Bob…how about…JENNY KNIGHT!" Jenny had slouched in her seat, unwilling to get up in front of hundreds of people; but Dania was bodily pushing at her by then, so she got up and picked her way to the front, feeling silly and convinced her face was the color of the planet Mars. But Bob Barker had greeted her warmly and welcomed her to the show, then turned and introduced the next item up for bids—the kayak, which Jenny had promptly proceeded to win.

And now she'd won the first Showcase Showdown and had a chance to catch her breath. Seated in the front row with the other contestants, both those who had made it onstage and those who were still trying to place a winning bid, she'd gotten acquainted with a woman from northern Indiana who was here on her first-ever trip west of the Rockies and operating on at least a gallon of pure caffeine. Now Jenny watched her try again and again to get onstage and took the opportunity to enjoy watching the next three contestants playing their games of chance. Her Indiana friend finally got onstage as the day's last contestant and lost the game she played. The second Showcase Showdown commenced, and Jenny had to laugh when the Indiana woman snagged the runner-up position on a sixty-five-cent roll and leaped in place as if she had just won the crown jewels.

During the next break, Tara came around front and grinned at her. "Now aren't you glad I got those tickets?" she asked.

Jenny rolled her eyes teasingly. "It's not over yet, y'know. Wait and see what happens in the Showcase Showdown. My friend from Indiana up there is so gung-ho, I almost hate to go up against her."

Tara snickered. "Yeah, she sure is a live wire. Well, just remember, Jenny, all's fair in love and war. And game shows are just another form of war—so get your ammo ready." She gave Jenny a thumbs-up and scuttled back to her seat.

The director came around in her wake and brought her up to stand behind one of the two podiums set up for the Showcase Showdown contestants. "Now you're top winner, so you stand here next to Bob," he explained briskly and added to the Indiana woman, "Connie, you're on this side as runner-up. Now you can take bid suggestions from the audience, but don't take too long—we're on a schedule here and we have one more show to tape after this one. So we gotta keep it moving. Got it, ladies?"

Jenny and Connie both nodded and took their places, grinning nervously at each other. Some yards away across the stage, Bob Barker was having his makeup freshened again while stage hands bustled back and forth behind him like ants swarming over a sidewalk. The three models came out from backstage somewhere and found their marks, relaxing their stances and chatting to one another. Jenny looked out into the audience and made a point of locating Tara and Dania; she knew they were going to try to help her with her bid, and she wanted to be able to find them easily.

Barker came over to stand beside Jenny's podium and the director waved at some unseen personage offstage, who flashed a sign requesting quiet. The noisy audience settled into relative silence, and the director counted down at Barker. The red light on the nearest camera came on, and Barker launched into his cheerful explanation of the Showcase Showdown right on cue. Jenny only half listened; she had watched _The Price is Right_ since she was in fifth grade, and the Showdown hadn't changed in over twenty years, except for the part about winning both showcases if your bid was within a hundred dollars of the actual retail price. Jenny had been having more than her share of luck all the way through this show and didn't expect that to happen; she wasn't even sure she wanted it to.

"Your first showcase," she heard Rod Roddy thunder cheerfully, "is a train of goodies to help get you through a rainy day!" He then went on to describe a brand-new entertainment system (complete with popcorn machine), a hot tub and a cash prize of fifty thousand dollars, "for that rainy-day fund." The popcorn machine made Jenny laugh; but Connie bounced up and down like a yo-yo every time a new prize was introduced, so Jenny did what ninety-nine percent of top winners did and passed the first showcase on to Connie. Connie proceeded to peer into the audience for an interminable sixty seconds before deciding to bid seventy-five thousand on her prize package.

"Connie has bid $75,000," Barker announced, and the amount flashed onto the front of Connie's podium. "Very good." He then turned to Jenny, whose stomach abruptly began to flutter for the first time all day, and said with a flourish, "Jenny, this is your showcase!"

"Your showcase features the Dream Team," boomed Rod Roddy jovially, "showing off some dreamy prizes!" The three models, dressed in basketball uniforms, waved at the camera and mugged in hammy fashion. "The first prize is the perfect place to dream in at night: a four-poster bed!" A door slid open to reveal a gorgeous creation in mahogany, plumped up to the nines with the fluffiest down comforter Jenny had ever seen and with clouds of delicate lace draped across the stout posters. It was the sort of bed Jenny had always wanted as a child. All of a sudden she wanted very much to win this showcase.

"Some women wish they could have a dreamboat in their lives," remarked Rod Roddy with a broad grin in his voice, while one of the models pretended to swoon over a poster of Tom Cruise. "You, on the other hand, will have a fantastic time in a real dream boat—a beautiful new catamaran!" _Oh my God,_ thought Jenny. Dania took after Brian in her affinity for the water; she looked into the audience and saw Dania's rapt expression. _Between that bed and that boat, I don't see how they can possibly top this._

Rod Roddy finished describing the boat, and Jenny returned her attention to the stage, where one of the models was donning a grass skirt over her basketball shorts. "Susie's dream is to visit the tropics…but you have the chance to make your wildest dreams come true with _a trip to Fantasy Island!"_ Another door slid open, revealing a painting of a tropical landscape dominated by palm trees and beach views, with the words _FANTASY ISLAND_ in gleaming white script across the scene. The audience went positively insane, roaring with deafening enthusiasm. Jenny's hand drifted to her mouth and she gawked, forgetting the camera, the stage, the audience and everything else. Memories came flying back to her and she barely heard Roddy's voice. "Yes, it's a trip for four to gorgeous, exotic Fantasy Island, the world's most popular vacation resort, where your host, Mr. Roarke, can make any dream come to life. You and your party will have the best accommodations, five-star restaurants, and the time of your lives soaking up sun on the beach and exploring this astounding paradise. Your most cherished fantasy can be made reality with the help of Mr. Roarke." Jenny was shaking. _I_ have _to win this thing!_ "And this showcase of dreams can be yours…if the price is right!"

Bob Barker, unaware of Jenny's stunned state, turned to her and inquired, "And what do you bid on this showcase, Jenny?"

Jenny tried frantically to remember how much her mother had paid for their trip to that very same island fifteen years before. Maybe Mr. Roarke's price had gone up. Airfare must undoubtedly be more than it had been back then, so she'd have to take that into account. And would it cost more if she actually had a fantasy granted, instead of just taking a vacation there? She glanced at the prizes, belatedly remembering that she also had to consider the bed and the catamaran when she made her bid, and hunted for Tara and Dania in the audience. Tara was waving like a maniac; when Jenny's gaze connected with hers, she held up seven fingers. Jenny squinted at her in disbelief and tilted her head, just as Barker prodded, "What's your bid, Jenny?"

She saw Tara glare at her for a second or two and again hold up seven fingers. It didn't seem right to Jenny; it sounded like far too much. She went with a gut instinct, turned to Barker and said, "Fifty-five thousand, two hundred dollars."

Barker nodded and faced the camera. "Jenny has bid $55,200 on her showcase; Connie has bid $75,000. Who will win? We'll find out right after these messages!"

The director signaled a cut and Jenny wilted a little over her podium. "You okay?" yelled Connie over the incessant audience noise.

"Yeah," Jenny said, trying to breathe slowly and deeply. "I'll be fine." She hadn't thought of the family trip to Fantasy Island in ages. She still had a scrapbook of pictures somewhere, shots she had taken after Mom's fantasy had ended and they'd attended a luau. She remembered Mr. Roarke as an elegant, benevolent, yet mysterious man, approachable at times, remote at others. He'd had a midget assistant back then, hadn't he?…and some girl about David's age as well, his ward or something. Come to think of it, David had had a crush on the girl, whose name Jenny couldn't remember now. She'd have to dig out those old shots again, even if she lost to Connie.

Barker noticed her plight and had someone bring her a cup of water, for which she thanked him with a shy smile. She drank greedily and handed the cup back just as the director waved people back to their places and the audience settled down on request. Once more the director counted down and Barker essentially repeated his spiel of a moment before. "Now let's see who's going to walk away with a showcase today. First, our runner-up: Connie has bid $75,000. The actual retail price of her showcase is…" He plucked a small envelope out of a Plexiglas holder on Connie's podium and lifted the flap, withdrawing a little card. "Eighty-seven thousand, four hundred and ninety-five dollars—a difference of twelve thousand, four hundred and ninety-five dollars." Connie blinked in surprise, but her hell-bent-for-leather grin remained intact. Barker took five steps backward and paused while Jenny gripped the sides of her podium and stared at him intensely.

"Now," Barker continued, "our top winner. Jenny has bid $55,200 on her showcase. The actual retail price is…" Again he lifted out an envelope and pulled up the flap, tugging out a card while Jenny's stomach swooped and soared alternately like a stunt plane. "Fifty-six thousand, eight hundred forty-four dollars—a difference of one thousand, six hundred and forty-four dollars. Jenny, you win!"

Jenny gaped at him, stunned, then screamed, "I win?"

"You win!" Barker repeated and started to laugh when she stumbled out from behind her podium to see the amount of the difference between her bid and the stated price. It was really true! She had just straightened up to turn to Barker and thank him when she was attacked by Tara and Dania, both screaming their heads off. The audience was applauding and cheering enough to bring down the building; her ears were ringing from the cacophony and her head was spinning with the overwhelming realization that she'd won a whole raft of incredible prizes. Dazed and giggling uncontrollably, she let Tara lead her over to examine the bed, then the boat, and then the stylized tropical scene that denoted the trip.

"Get your favorite fantasy ready, Jenny," Tara shouted gleefully into her ear. "We're going back to Fantasy Island!"


	2. Chapter 2

§ § § -- September 10, 1994—Fantasy Island

Roarke, having just introduced four young men who wanted to be circus performers for the weekend, shifted his attention to the new party, also numbering four, who came down the plane dock. "Ah…these names may sound familiar to you, Leslie," he said. "Jenny Knight; her daughter, Dania Branham; her sister Tara, and her brother Brian."

Leslie peered at him. "They don't ring a bell."

"Perhaps they will when I remind you that Jenny, Tara and Brian came here with their mother and brother David fifteen years ago, because Mrs. Knight had a fantasy to be poor for one weekend. You played a role in that fantasy, don't you remember?"

Leslie thought back to the summer of 1979, and the memory suddenly popped to life in her head. "Oh, that's right! They went back to visit 1876, didn't they? I remember now. So they're back…to take another time trip, maybe?"

Roarke smiled. "No, not this time. However, Ms. Knight does in fact have a fantasy. On their first visit fifteen years ago, she met a young man named Rodney Stone, whom you might also remember. She would like to find out whatever happened to him."

Leslie nodded; the memories were flooding rapidly back to her. "Rodney's mother's fantasy was to get revenge on the woman who caused the car wreck that killed her daughter Wendy. I got to be friends with Rodney's sister Joanna, now that I recall."

"Indeed so," said Roarke warmly. "Ms. Knight actually won her trip here on the television game show _The Price is Right_, and thought it was the perfect opportunity to find the answer to her question. She has wondered about Rodney Stone for quite a few years, but particularly since the end of her marriage several years ago."

"And is Rodney Stone on the island?" Leslie inquired.

"He certainly is," Roarke said, his expression going pensive, "but I am afraid Ms. Knight is in for a great disappointment." A native girl brought a tray, and he lifted the glass from it and raised it, calling out the weekly toast while Leslie studied the Knights. It would be very interesting to find out what had happened to them since that long-ago summer.

‡ ‡ ‡

"Gosh, stuff's changed around a lot since the last time we were here," observed Tara with interest as she, her sister, brother and niece entered the main house. She took in the position of Roarke's desk under the tall shuttered windows, the table that bore the tea tray with its delicate porcelain cups and teapot, the computer in the corner and the two understated leather chairs with which Roarke had just that summer replaced the club chairs that had held that spot for so long. "Where's Tattoo?"

"He married and moved away," Roarke said, smiling at her recollections. "Perhaps you remember Leslie Hamilton?"

"I do," said Jenny and grinned at her. "You used to be Mr. Roarke's ward, didn't you?"

Leslie nodded, and Roarke put in, "She is now my daughter, as well as my assistant. Perhaps you would care for refreshment after your flight? We have tea ready." He indicated the tea table; their guests turned and eyed it.

"If you don't mind, Mr. Roarke, I'd rather have another one of those tropical drinks we got coming off the plane," Brian Knight said. He was now thirty-three, a tall, tanned man with windblown light-brown hair and smiling hazel eyes. "Jenny's the one with the fantasy. I'm just here to have a good time, since I was lucky enough to be asked to come with her. I can't get over the good luck she had winning this trip."

"I'll have some tea," Jenny decided, and Tara agreed with her. Dania peered at the teapot, then turned to regard Roarke.

"I think I'd rather have a chocolate milkshake," she said.

Leslie and Roarke both laughed, and Leslie said, "I'll look into it for you. Be right back." She headed for the kitchen while the other adults sat down. Dania drifted over to stand beside her mother, watching Roarke pour tea.

"Mmmm, this is really good!" Tara exclaimed after a sip. "It's got hints of all sorts of fruit in it. Try it, Jenny." While Jenny was taking a sip from her own cup, Tara drained hers and lifted the teapot for a refill.

"I'm glad you enjoy the tea," Roarke said warmly. "If you like, I'll arrange to have another pot waiting for you at your bungalow." Tara nodded eagerly; a few seconds later, Leslie came back from the kitchen, bearing a tray. She handed Brian Knight a squat brandy glass containing a golden decoction that clearly contained pineapple juice, then handed Dania a tall tumbler with her chocolate shake.

"Thanks," Dania said and took a pull on her straw, her eyes widening. "Gosh, who made this? It's the best milkshake I ever tasted!"

"That would be our cook, Mariki," Leslie said. "She'd appreciate the compliment; I'll tell her you said so. Well, Father, I guess we're ready."

Roarke nodded. "Thank you, Leslie. Well, then…I understand that it's you, Ms. Knight, who has the fantasy this time."

Jenny nodded shyly, her hands wrapped around the teacup as if for reassurance. "I guess it seems kind of stupid, but I'd like to know what happened to Rodney Knight. I met him the weekend Mom brought us all here."

"So you didn't stay in touch?" Leslie asked from beside Roarke's chair.

"Well, we did for about a year or so," Jenny said, reddening. "Then I met this guy in school. He was brand-new, just moved from San Diego, and his name was Ray Branham." Both Roarke and Leslie noticed the darkening expressions on Brian's and Tara's faces and looked at each other. "I thought he was the greatest guy I ever met…and he really was a charmer, Mr. Roarke. We got married as soon as I finished high school. The thing is…well, once I met Ray and fell in love with him, I forgot all about Rodney. I stopped writing to him just out of the blue." Her face turned even redder. "He must have thought the worst of me. But Ray…" She swallowed hard and hung her head.

Tara and Brian looked at her, then each other, then at Dania, who was absorbed in her shake but obviously listening. Brian finally took up the story. "Branham really did a number on Jenny, Mr. Roarke. At first he was the politest person on earth. He had the whole family fooled. Mom thought Jenny was too young to get married, because they had the ceremony the week after Ray and Jenny graduated high school. Mom and Dad were married young too, and they'd been divorced about a year before Mom brought us here the first time." Roarke nodded, as if he had already known that. "But Ray put up such a front, promising to take care of Jenny and give her everything she ever wanted, that both our parents were taken in and agreed to the wedding.

"But the problem is…Ray's an abuser, Mr. Roarke. He's the kind of guy who can fool everyone in sight with no effort at all, but behind closed doors, he turns into a monster. We started wondering why Jenny's personality began to change within weeks after the wedding. She kept ducking questions and started wearing a lot of makeup, making excuses for being unable to join family outings, stuff like that. We thought at first she was just pandering to Ray, but then one day our brother David and I went over to their apartment and Jenny answered the door with a shiner that looked like it covered half her face."

"She was pregnant with Dania at the time," Tara put in. "Even after Dania was born, it didn't mellow Ray out at all. He never touched her, but he didn't stop beating Jenny."

"She couldn't have hidden that black eye with pancake makeup," Brian said. "We asked her where she got the thing, and she tried to tell us she'd banged into something, but David in particular didn't buy it. He'd been seeing a girl whose parents abused her and knew all the signs and symptoms. He confronted Jenny about it right there and wouldn't let up, and she finally broke down and admitted that Ray was beating her up."

"But she didn't leave then?" inquired Roarke.

Jenny, face flaming, shook her head but didn't speak, and Tara laid a hand on her sister's shoulder. "She wanted Dania to grow up with two parents in the house, especially after our own parents were divorced. But we kept telling her it was better to be a single mother and safe than a married one who was getting walloped all the time."

"Dania was five before Jenny finally found the guts to leave Ray," said Brian. "They kept moving around the country though, because Ray was constantly finding out where they were and going over to make threats at Jenny. The divorce went through pretty easily, all things considered, because we were there to help Jenny provide evidence that Ray was using her for a punching bag. But they couldn't get away from him. Jenny tried everything to keep him away from her, from unlisted phone numbers and assumed names to getting restraining orders and even moving all the way out to the East Coast. Somehow Ray always tracked them down. Then our dad got hold of her and told her to bring Dania back to McMinnville. He's very wealthy and has a house in a gated community, and he insisted that they come back and live with him. The first time Ray tried to get to Jenny and Dania there, he was turned back at the gate."

Dania said suddenly, "Once he even broke into Grandpa's house, Mr. Roarke. He probably sneaked past the guard and found the house and just broke right in. My dad's a nasty, sneaky guy. All my life I've seen him beating up Mom. That's just plain wrong. Aunt Tara and Uncle Brian and Grandpa said Mom always used to be real popular and had loads of friends and stuff, and then when my dumb dad met her, she got like she is now. She's shy and scared of people now."

"I'd like to see her the way she used to be," Tara said. "When we came here the first time, Mr. Roarke, she wasn't afraid of anything. I mean, we were all a little spoiled, since our parents had a way of fighting over money after their divorce and Dad used to use it to try to win us over. And it did work for awhile." She grinned sheepishly.

"I seem to remember you were convinced you were getting a pony," Leslie teased gently, and everyone laughed, even Jenny.

"Yeah, I remember that too," Tara admitted, red-faced but grinning with good nature. "Never did get the pony either." That got another laugh before she set down her cup and slid an arm around Jenny's shoulders. "Anyway, like I said, Jenny used to be fearless. That weekend, she went right over to Rodney Stone and asked him to take her to the luau. They must've hit it off. Right up till Jenny met that jerk, she and Rodney wrote at least once every couple of weeks. We're in Oregon and they lived in Indiana, so it's not like they could see each other on weekends or whatever, but it looked like a really promising friendship."

"Then Ray ruined it all," Jenny said at last, meeting Roarke's gaze with obvious hesitation. "I can't believe I fell for it. I feel like such an idiot."

"You wouldn't be the first woman to fall for a few smooth lines and a charming manner, Ms. Knight," Roarke said comfortingly. "Abusers tend to be very talented actors; they put up an impeccable façade for the public, and only their victims know the truth. The main thing is that you were able to escape him and get yourself and your daughter to safety. It's my understanding that you won this trip as a prize on a game show."

"It was Aunt Tara's idea," Dania said with a big grin. "She's a super makeup artist, Mr. Roarke, and she's been working on movies ever since she was in college. She did the makeup on this movie called _Trouble on Wheels_, the one with Toni Karlsen last year. And she just got done with _Trouble on Wheels II_. She was Toni Karlsen's personal makeup artist, Mr. Roarke! Isn't that cool? She even sent me Toni Karlsen's autograph and everything. We saw _Trouble on Wheels_ seven times!"

"Before Dania gets all carried away again," said Tara with an affectionate grin at her niece, "I guess I've had a great run of luck. In any case, the _Trouble on Wheels_ movies made me solvent enough that I bought a condo in Rancho Palos Verdes last spring. After principal shooting was completed in May, I decided I could use a vacation, and I figured Jenny and Dania could too. Nobody's heard from Ray in months, and I thought they needed to get away for awhile. So I talked Jenny into bringing Dania to L.A. for a visit after school let out for the summer, and I got tickets to _The Price is Right_."

"She didn't even want to go at first," Dania said. "But then they called her name from the audience, and she just kept winning and winning and winning." She sighed. "But I kinda wish you'd been less than a hundred bucks away from the real price, Mom. It would've been so cool to have that popcorn machine."

Brian rolled his eyes and explained this to Roarke and Leslie before turning to Dania. "Come on, kiddo, your mom won that boat, remember? You'll have a lot more fun sailing on that than you would with any silly popcorn machine."

"Yeah, I guess that's right," Dania agreed and grinned at Roarke and Leslie. "Uncle Brian's a great sailor. He's gonna teach me how to sail our new boat."

"Sounds like fun," said Leslie, grinning back.

"Indeed," Roarke concurred and sat back, taking in the Knight siblings and the girl. "Well, now that I know your background, I can tell you that Rodney Stone is here on the island this weekend…"

Jenny stared at him in amazement; Tara and Brian beamed. "That's great," said Brian.

"…But," Roarke continued, "I am not altogether sure Mr. Stone will want to see you, Ms. Knight. There have been changes in his life too, you see, since you fell out of touch with him, and they are not all positive ones."

Jenny looked distressed. "But…it's my fantasy, Mr. Roarke. I've wondered for years now what happened to him. After I left Ray, I thought about Rodney a lot, and I called myself fifty kinds of moron because I stopped writing to him. If I'd just stayed in touch with him, maybe things would've been different." Her eyes filled with tears. "Please, Mr. Roarke, I really do want to see him again."

"Jenny's finally had some good luck in her life," Tara added with some indignation. "The least you can do is let her find out what happened to Rodney, from the man himself."

"Does he want to see Jenny again, Mr. Roarke?" Brian put in, frowning in his sisters' direction. "I mean…does he even know we're here?"

"No," said Roarke quietly, "he doesn't. However, since you wish to carry on with your fantasy, Ms. Knight, then I shall grant it." He regarded them with a solemn, almost foreboding expression. "I can only hope it doesn't disappoint you."

Silence reigned for about ten seconds before Tara cleared her throat. "Well, I say we keep an optimistic outlook on this. Maybe seeing Jenny again will be a pleasant surprise for Rodney. Where can we find him?"

"Tell you what," said Leslie, "why don't I take you folks over to your bungalow so you can unpack and settle in a little bit. Sooner or later, everyone goes to the pool, so you stand a very good chance of seeing Mr. Stone there. But I'm sure you want to take a break after the flights and have a chance to get yourselves together a little."

"That sounds good to me," Jenny said softly. "Okay, let's go."

Just then Dania slurped up the last of her milkshake through the straw, the noise echoing through the room and making her mother, aunt and uncle wince. "Dania, that's not polite," Jenny scolded.

Dania glanced up and said, "Sorry."

Leslie grinned at her. "Don't be. Mariki'll take that as a compliment too." She joined in the others' chuckles. "Come right this way."


	3. Chapter 3

§ § § -- September 10, 1994

"Monica, for crying out loud, quit hovering." Rodney Stone, frustrated and annoyed, strode across the room, limping just enough to be noticeable. "I swear, I have to tell you that so many times, I think I've started saying it in my sleep."

Monica Gold, a beautiful, slim woman with dark hair and large tea-colored eyes, came right after him. "Rodney, you know I'm only trying to keep you from being hurt."

He swung around and glared at her. "No, you're not. All you see is my limp, and something in your mind equates that with _invalid_. Well, I'm not an invalid. I'm a grown man, dammit, old enough to know what's risky and what's not. When are you going to quit treating me like an overgrown child and start seeing me as the man I am?"

Monica stared at him, looking hurt, and he threw his hands in the air. "I just don't get it, Monica. We shouldn't even be getting married. I made it clear to you from the outset that I don't love you. Why do you keep persisting? You're wasting our money and Mr. Roarke's time and resources. And you know I don't have that kind of cash to burn."

Monica smiled, all polished class and grace once more, and approached him again, slipping her arm through his. "Well, I do, darling. And you know perfectly well that you'll go right down the drain if we don't get married. I'm your only hope."

Rodney shook his head, more frustrated than ever, and pulled his arm away from Monica's. "I don't think you love me either, do you?"

"We always knew it was a business arrangement, but we're friends at least, and I think that's a good start," Monica said confidently. "Centuries ago, a lot of marriages were made on shakier ground than that." She stepped back and regarded him with disapproval. "Your problem is that you're too defensive. That car accident you were in that killed your sister has colored your perceptions of everyone around you. You think all they can see is your limp, and you treat them accordingly. So you're overly aggressive, and you turn everyone off. Don't you think people are a little less shallow than that?"

"You should talk," Rodney retorted. "You yourself can't see past my limp—that's why you keep trying to save me from myself. I don't need saving, Monica, and neither does the company. I'll do this myself or die in the attempt. For the last time, let's call off this whole idiotic farce and just go home."

Monica shook her head with determination. "No, darling, you need me. You just don't want to see it." She sighed and half turned away. "Not only that, I need you too," she murmured, partly to herself.

Rodney eyed her sidelong, guilt swelling up; that in itself annoyed him and he gritted his teeth. "I gotta get outta here. I need some air. And if you give even half a damn about me, Monica, you'll leave me alone for awhile. I need time by myself so I can clear my head. And frankly, I think you need to be alone so you can consider this three-ring circus you're creating here." He didn't wait for a reply but stalked out the door.

Without really thinking about it, he went off to the swimming pool, hesitating when he saw how crowded it was but then deciding it might be a good place to lose himself. It was so noisy he couldn't hear himself think, and that sounded good to him right about now. He managed to find a spot at the bar and ordered a Tom Collins, hunching into himself and staring at the bar top as if trying to find answers in the highly polished wood.

He got his drink and turned away, instantly colliding with someone. Half the drink sloshed out of the glass, splattering the other person and the concrete under their feet. "Aw, hell," Rodney muttered, "I'm really sorry…" He looked up and met the other person's gaze, then stared in disbelief. _"Jenny?"_

Jenny Knight bobbed her head, her face alight. "Hi, Rodney."

"Damn," Rodney breathed, astonished. "Who'd've thought…" He caught himself and grinned broadly at her. "After all these years! What're you doing on Fantasy Island?"

"It's a long story," Jenny said with a shy return grin. "Don't you think I'd bore you if I told you about it?"

"Not for a second," Rodney assured her, taking her arm and steering her along the perimeter of the pool to a table that had just opened up. "Man, Jenny, what a way to meet again—me spilling my stupid drink all over you. Sit here and let me get some napkins."

"Oh, don't bother," Jenny insisted. "It's just my bathing suit—it'll wash. Sit down and enjoy what's left of your drink." Rodney laughed and acquiesced, leaning forward to regard her with amazement.

"I just can't get over this," he said. "Quite honestly, I thought I'd never see you again." His features grew puzzled. "How come you quit writing, Jenny? Was it something I said?"

She turned stop-sign red. "No, no, it wasn't you, Rodney. It was me and my own stupidity. I was seventeen and cocky and I thought I knew everything. You remember how I was when we were here back in '79. Nothing stopped me from getting something if I wanted it badly enough. Well, unfortunately for me, I wanted Ray Branham, and as a result I played right into his hands." Rodney sat and listened closely while she explained about Ray, her marriage, his abuse, their daughter and her eventual divorce.

"So that's why," he said, settling back in his chair. "Did he abuse your daughter?"

"No, he never touched Dania, just me," Jenny said. "Just as well. It was bad enough I didn't have the guts to leave him earlier. She saw what happened, but she was too little to understand at the time. When we finally moved back to Oregon, we took my dad up on his offer to let us live with him, and he and my stepmother have been really great with her. She's a terrific kid, Rodney. You have to meet her."

"So she's not a little mouse, like she could be," Rodney said. "Well, I'm glad to hear you got out at all, Jenny. Not all abused wives do. How's the rest of the family?"

"Mom's remarried and lives in Montana," Jenny said, ticking off on her fingers. "Dad and my stepmom have been married for about ten years now, and he's the CEO of a very successful snack-food company. Brian's single, lives up in Astoria and runs a charter fishing service. Loves it. David got married this summer and he and his wife had a lavish honeymoon in Bermuda; that's partly why he isn't with us now. And Tara works in Hollywood as a makeup artist. She did Toni Karlsen's makeup in those _Trouble on Wheels_ movies. Did you see those?"

"Yeah, those were great action movies," Rodney said, nodding in recognition. "What's the other reason David isn't with you?"

"Oh." Jenny giggled self-consciously. "Well, Tara talked me into going to a taping of _The Price is Right_ back in June. They actually called me out of the audience, and the next thing you know I was winning prizes left and right. To make a long story short, I won this trip in the Showcase Showdown. It was for four people, and I knew I was taking Dania and Tara with me, but that left only one open slot. So I asked Brian, since David had already had a trip to a sunny tropical locale."

Rodney laughed. "That makes sense," he said.

"So how's your family doing?" Jenny asked with interest.

"Well, Mom and Dad are both fine. After Mom made peace with the woman who caused the accident that killed Wendy, she and Dad patched up their marriage, and Mom finally found the courage to give Wendy's things to charity and turn her room into a guest bedroom. Joanna got married two years ago and she's expecting a baby sometime this month. I wouldn't be surprised if I got a call this weekend. That's the only reason she isn't here for the wedding."

Jenny blinked at him. "Wedding?"

Rodney sat up straight, just then realizing what he had said. "Aw, damn…" He fell back in his chair and stared at the umbrella that shaded them, self-annoyance in his features. "I'm sorry, Jenny. I'm getting married tomorrow, to Monica Gold."

"You mean…Garrison Gold's daughter?" Jenny asked in a stunned half-whisper.

"Yeah, as in Gold Conglomerates," muttered Rodney. "We met after her father tried to buy out my company. I managed to avoid that particular hostile takeover, but Monica decided she wanted me and hasn't given up since then. Unfortunately, my company is still having financial problems, and she's convinced herself that I need her so I can bail it out. Problem is, I'm afraid she's right. Either I marry her, or Stonecyphers gets swallowed up by Gold, without so much as a burp."

"Oh my God," said Jenny, still reeling from the news that Rodney was engaged. "What does your company do, Rodney?"

"We write computer programs," Rodney told her, looking and sounding distracted. "It's a growing field, but it's competitive as hell, and it's hard to make any headway with so many other companies vying for the same customers. Monica promised that when we get married, she'll pour some substantial money into Stonecyphers and help me save about a hundred and fifty jobs."

"Oh," Jenny mumbled in a tiny voice.

Rodney came back to the moment and leaned forward across the table. "Jenny, it's purely a business arrangement. I'm not even in love with the woman!"

She stared at him. "Then you're just marrying her to save Stonecyphers?" He nodded, and she tipped her head to one side. "Rodney, I've got a huge trust fund my dad set up for me ages ago. I just had an idea. Maybe I could—"

"_No!"_ Rodney snapped, his expression freezing over instantly, his eyes blazing with fury and pride. "I won't take your money, Jenny. I'm not some charity case. You and everybody else—the minute you see this limp, that's all it takes to assume I need help. Well, I don't—so just keep your money and stay out of my business affairs!" He shot to his feet, shoved back his chair so hard it toppled over, and stalked away, seething.

He left behind a shocked Jenny Knight, who gaped after him till his vanishing image rippled and distorted in the tears that filled her eyes. She had never cared about his limp, but it didn't appear that he believed it. What had happened to him in the last decade and a half to make him assume that everyone saw only that and nothing else?

‡ ‡ ‡

"Isn't Mom coming back for lunch?" Dania asked, popping out of the bedroom in her swimsuit. Tara looked around and grinned at her.

"I dunno, kiddo. Maybe you and I ought to go on our own. Uncle Brian's probably checking out the island marina, so I don't think we're gonna see him either."

"Uncle Brian hasn't figured out what he wants to do yet," corrected Brian, emerging from the other bedroom which he had to himself. Jenny and Dania were sleeping in the first bedroom and Tara had the pull-out sofa in the main room. "However, little sis, checking out the marina seems like the perfect thing to do. I think I'll take you up on that suggestion right now."

"Oh, come on, not yet," Dania wheedled. "I'm starving, Uncle Brian."

Brian eyed her. "You think any restaurant's gonna let you in dressed in that? If you're really that hungry, you might want to change."

"I could just wear my suit under my clothes," Dania told him, smirking.

Tara laughed. "She's too smart for you, big brother. Look, if you'd rather go to the marina, don't let us stop you. I was thinking I'd feed the nuisance here and then we could hit the amusement park." Dania lit up at these words. "I was just looking at the brochure here and it says there's one on the other side of the island."

"Why don't we just eat at the amusement park?" Dania suggested excitedly.

"You read my mind, kiddo. Well, find your sneakers and let's go. Bri, you're welcome to tag along if you want." Tara tossed the brochure onto the coffee table.

"Nah, I like the idea about the marina better. You two have fun and I'll see you later on. I'll probably catch lunch at the marina, actually. But listen…aren't you planning to wait for Jenny?"

"She's probably having a good time with Rodney Stone," Tara said. "If she hadn't found him, she'd've come back here by now, so she must've met up with him. Okay, have fun at the marina, then. Come on, Dania, hurry up."

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Dania yelled, pounding out of the bedroom. "Let's go!"

The threesome left the bungalow together and made use of a jeep that Roarke and Leslie had put at their disposal for the weekend. Tara and Dania dropped off Brian at the marina, and he watched them tool off down the coastal road that ringed the island before turning his attention to the sleek yachts, sailboats and speedboats that were docked in neat rows or dotted the ocean for several miles around the area. Whistling, he sauntered down the dock, pausing every few yards to admire this boat or that, chuckling at some of the names he saw.

In front of a sloop called _Knot Paid IV_, out of Hilo, he noticed the tantalizing scent of roasted meat wafting toward him from somewhere and turned around to see a young woman with glossy brown hair that tumbled around her shoulders in gentle waves, meandering in his general direction while enjoying a shish kebab. She caught sight of him at the same moment and offered a friendly smile. "Hi there! That your boat?"

Brian laughed. "I wish! I'm just a boat fiend admiring the goods. Name's Brian Knight." He stuck out a hand; she switched the food-laden stick to her left hand and shook with him.

"Lauren McCormick," she said. "I do that too—come down here now and then just to check out the boats. It never fails but there're some with funny names. My brother Adrian just sank his measly life savings into a fifteen-foot fishing boat and wants help naming it, and I've been looking for off-the-wall names."

"This one's pretty good," Brian said, indicating the _Knot Paid IV_, "unless his boat actually is paid for."

Lauren examined the boat name and laughed. "Haven't seen that one before." She peered at him. "You from around here?"

"No, just a visitor from Astoria, Oregon," he told her. "You?"

"Yep, born and raised." She started to nip another bite off the skewer, then caught herself. "Oh, sorry…have you had lunch?"

Brian shook his head. "Where'd you get that? It smells fantastic."

"Follow me, I'll show you," Lauren offered.

"Great." Brian studied her another moment, then added, "If you haven't got any other plans, maybe you'd be willing to keep me company. Heck, you're not done either, so there's no reason we couldn't eat together."

"No, there isn't, and no, no plans." Lauren grinned. "You've got a deal. Come on."

They sauntered back to the little food stand where Lauren had bought her shish kebab, and Brian bought two; then they sat on an iron bench overlooking the sea. "Well," said Lauren, "so what brings you to Fantasy Island?"

"My sister and the trip she won on _The Price is Right_," Brian said and grinned at her surprised expression. "We've been here before, but the first time, we came with our mother. Jenny's got the fantasy this time around. It was a trip for four, so she invited me and our sister Tara to come along with her and my niece. Dania's eleven."

"I see," said Lauren. "Well, so far there's just me, my brother and my sister Deborah. I normally work in an office on one of the other islands near here, but I'm taking vacation this week and next, and enjoying my first day off."

"So you count weekends too," Brian said cheerfully. "Anything to lengthen a vacation, I always say. I decided to take a little time off too—normally I run a charter fishing outfit in Astoria. Season's winding down though, so I figured now's as good a time as any to get in a little off time before I spend the next six weeks laying up boats for the winter."

"That sounds cool," Lauren remarked. "How long have you been doing it?"

"About five years," Brian said. "I'm 33, by the way—I'll be 34 next February."

"No kidding. My birthday's in February too," Lauren exclaimed. "I hit the big three-oh on the sixth."

"Mine's the 21st," he said, studying her with growing interest. "So you're into boats, then? I was thinking about renting a little one, maybe a cat or a runabout or something, and just wheeling around the ocean for the afternoon. You interested in coming along? I can always arrange for a dinner. The trip includes just about everything imaginable, so that probably means I can have the hotel chef or even Roarke's private cook whip me up a really good picnic and we can have it on the water later, when we're getting hungry."

Lauren considered the idea and began to grin, nodding slowly. "The more I think about it, the better I like it," she said. "And incidentally, Mr. Roarke's daughter, Leslie, is a friend of mine and has been for years, so I know what I'm talking about when I tell you you definitely want Mariki to put the picnic basket together."

"Sold," Brian said and finished off his second skewer. "Mmm, that hit the spot. Come on with me and we'll have a chat with Mr. Roarke."


	4. Chapter 4

§ § § -- September 10, 1994

On the edge of tears, Jenny left the pool and returned to the bungalow, which she discovered was deserted. It was just as well; she didn't feel like facing her family and telling them how badly it had gone with Rodney. She thumped disconsolately onto the bed in the room she was sharing with Dania and traced the subtle design in the bedspread, letting her misery have its way.

"Well, isn't this convenient," said someone, and Jenny froze, forgetting everything. Her stomach began rolling and her hands shook, making her dig into the bedspread with her fists to keep the trembling from communicating itself.

"Say something, babe," suggested Ray Branham, strolling into the bedroom through the open glass door in the window wall. "Aren't you happy to see me?" He rounded the corner of the bed and stopped in front of Jenny, lifting her chin to force her to look at him; she twitched away and turned her head.

"Get out of here, Ray," she said tensely.

Ray grabbed her upper arm and yanked her to her feet. His deceptively handsome face hadn't lost any of its attractiveness, but the rotten core that lurked beneath his good looks marred his features and glinted from his pale-blue eyes. "I don't think so, babe. I knew you and Dania had to come out of your daddy's fortress one of these days, and when I saw you on that game show, I knew all I had to do was bide my time. I been here for about two months now, you know that? I knew sooner or later you'd show up and I could finally get ahold of you. And what happens but I see you yakking it up with some guy." His lip curled and his voice became a snarl; he pushed his face right into her frightened one. "You belong to me, Jenny Branham, you got that? You don't talk to _any_ guy!"

"I don't belong to you, Ray," she snapped, for a moment finding some of her old spirit. "I never did, even when we were married—but we're divorced now, and you have no control over who I see or talk to. And by the way, it's Jenny Knight."

Ray instantly exploded, backhanding her so hard that she stumbled halfway across the room and collided with the wall. "Don't you _dare_ talk back to me, you hear me?" he roared, seizing her arm and pulling with nearly enough force to wrench it from the socket. Jenny shrieked in pain. "Shut up!" Ray screamed and cracked her head against one of the posts that supported the canopy over the bed.

Stars burst in Jenny's head and she saw her world slowly go black. The intense, throbbing pain gradually receded; she welcomed the darkness that swallowed her, because it gave her release from Ray and his screaming and his hard, hard hands.

‡ ‡ ‡

Not till suppertime did Rodney finally return to the bungalow he was sharing with Monica, feeling confused and guilty and disgusted with himself all at the same time. He wasn't proud of the way he'd treated poor Jenny; but he just couldn't stand the idea of her seeing him as a charity case. Besides, if she was divorced with a child to support, she'd more than likely need that trust fund herself.

Monica looked up hopefully from the magazine she was reading and brightened when she recognized him. "Where've you been all afternoon, darling?" she asked, rising and coming to him. "I hope you were able to think things through."

He shook his head. "No, I think I'm only more confused," he muttered, shying away when she reached for his hands. "I just came over here to get some of my stuff."

Monica canted her head, eyeing him in puzzlement. "Why?"

He cleared his throat, hoping the story he'd concocted at more or less the last minute would be convincing enough. "Aw, well, I'm kind of an old-fashioned boy, I suppose. Last night before the wedding and all…I mean, we'll have the honeymoon tomorrow, right? And a little anticipation might be good for us."

"Oh," said Monica, surprised. "But…"

Rodney forced a grin. "Please? Do it for me," he said.

She regarded him a little doubtfully, then finally shrugged and chuckled. "Well, if that's what you want," she said. "But where will you be?"

"I'll just take a room at the hotel for tonight," he said. "Humor me, Monica. And while you're at it, get your mind off it too. Go to the luau or something and enjoy yourself. It's crazy for you to sit around here just because your only reason for coming here was the wedding. Haven't you checked on the preparations today?"

"Why bother?" said Monica breezily. "Mr. Roarke has a reputation for being the very best host there is, and I have complete faith that he'll come through for us. So I'm just relaxing here. But now that you mention it, I think I'll take a ride. I hear the stables here have some of the best horses on earth, and anyway, I miss Windrider."

Rodney nodded. "I'm sure you do. Go on ahead, and have fun." He watched her go to the bedroom to change into riding gear and sighed heavily when she was out of earshot. Between her horses and her society obligations, she actually led a busy life for someone who was idle rich; but for Rodney, it simply emphasized the difference between her and him. He had never figured out what it was about him that seemed to so captivate her. They were from totally different worlds, and he had never felt comfortable in hers.

Monica sailed happily out of the bungalow, waving at him as she went, and he hurried into the bedroom to throw some things into his suitcase. He was really looking forward to having time and space to himself, which made him feel guilty and irritated him all over again. _I've totally botched things up,_ he thought, scowling at himself. _I couldn't even treat Jenny in a civilized way. Well, the least I can do is try to make amends with her. Once I get settled in at the hotel, I'll see if I can find her._

‡ ‡ ‡

Sunset cast a deep red glow across the water, the sail and their faces as Brian and Lauren toasted each other with Dom Perignon, vintage 1964. They'd surprised each other with their respective knowledge of and skill at boating, and together had piloted their rented sailboat some ten miles off the coast of Fantasy Island.

"Is this the life, or what?" Brian remarked blissfully, swirling the wine in his glass. "A sweet boat, a delicious dinner, the best wine in the world…and a pretty lady to share it all with. What more could I possibly ask for?"

Lauren smiled faintly, a wistful glint in her eyes. "That it'd never end?" she suggested.

Brian focused on her and smiled back. "Hey, that's a good one. Gotta agree with that." He tipped back the glass again, savoring the liquid as it slid down his throat. "Ahh. Ambrosia, sheer ambrosia. You know…" He sat up and scanned the water around them; lights twinkled from the distant coastline, and stars were popping out overhead in all their glittering glory. "It doesn't have to end, if we don't want it to."

"No?" Lauren asked, hope blooming within her. She was feeling broadsided, yet it was a wonderful feeling. Never before had she had this kind of instant attraction to a man; she supposed she must have been waiting for Brian Knight all this time, cliché though it was. He was here only for the weekend, and she didn't want to waste a single moment when she was as sure as she felt right now.

"No," Brian said, setting his empty glass aside and smiling at her. "Not if we don't want it to. Hey, it's Fantasy Island: we can have our fondest wishes, right?"

"That's what they say," Lauren replied inanely, heart pounding.

They gazed at each other; then Brian glanced over their heads in the fast-fading light and said teasingly, "You think they'd let us keep this boat overnight?" That broke the tension and they both laughed.

"I doubt it," said Lauren. "And anyway, we're out far enough that we might find ourselves totally alone at sea by morning." She bit her lip suddenly, staring at Brian in disbelief. "I'd had plans with my friends this afternoon and I totally forgot about them. Oh my God." Her eyes widened and she smiled slowly. "If you have that kind of effect on me, then I think it'd be a shame to waste it, don't you?"

"I agree completely," Brian murmured, catching her chin between his thumb and two fingers and kissing her. What began as a soft, exploratory contact turned into something far more involved, and when they at last pulled apart, they were both breathing hard.

"Before your friends send out a search party for us, we better get back," Brian finally observed, clearly reluctant.

"Aw, let 'em send one," Lauren mumbled and pulled him in for another kiss. This one was shorter but somehow even hotter; Brian tugged away first and blew out his breath, grinning at her.

"I have no intention of leaving off here," he told her meaningfully, "but we really should get back. The sooner we do, the sooner we can find out where this is going."

The wind had died, so they lowered the sail and motored back to the marina. Lauren packed the remains of their meal into the basket while Brian manned the tiller, and within half an hour they had docked, checked in with the rental office, and were on their way back towards the interior of the island.

"Well, this is gonna sound like the stupidest thing you ever heard," Brian finally said, "but, uh…your place or mine? And before you answer that, you should know that I have to share a bungalow with my niece and my sisters."

"Then that kind of makes it academic, don't you think?" Lauren said, chuckling. "My place it is. I live just outside town here. Come on."


	5. Chapter 5

§ § § -- September 10-11, 1994

Jenny's head spun so badly that she didn't dare open her eyes; but her memory was in working order, and she remembered everything. For a good five minutes she lay still, eyes closed, listening through the _swish-thud_ of her heartbeat in her ears. She could hear nothing else; when she finally dared open her eyes, she expected to see Ray's shoes in front of her face, but she saw only an expanse of white carpet.

Very slowly she began to gather herself together and pick herself up. Her head still throbbed dully, and there was a concentrated ache just right of center in the back of her skull where Ray had bashed her against the bedpost. After an apparent eternity she was on her feet, clutching the bedpost, peering uncertainly around her. The light was dimmer than it had been when Ray had come in and beaten her; she must have been out for some time.

"Tara?" she called hoarsely. "Brian? Dania?…"

No one responded, and she was so weak with a surge of relief that her knees went out from under her and she collapsed onto the bed. Evidently they had been out the entire afternoon, which was just as well, she decided. The last thing she wanted was to spoil their trip by telling them Ray had trailed them here. Jenny forced herself back onto her feet and over to the dresser, where a pad of stationery lay beside the contents of her overnight case and the stuffed St. Bernard that Dania still slept with every night. She picked up the pen that rested atop the pad and doggedly ignored her pain to write a short note to the others. _I hope you all had fun. I had something to eat that didn't agree with me and I'm asleep, so go ahead and do whatever you want. I'll see everyone later on._ She looked up inadvertently as she put down the pen and found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror. Out of habit, she carefully examined her face. Ray had been true to form; it hadn't taken him long to learn to hit her where the bruises wouldn't show, or to do it in such a way that there wouldn't be a bruise at all. She would be able to get away with pretending a mild case of food poisoning. She tore the note off the pad, tottered out to the main room and placed it with inordinate care atop the brochures Tara had been reading that morning.

Changing into her summer nightgown was a major undertaking and it felt like a great reward to crawl under the bedcovers. Only then did Jenny cry herself to sleep.

When she became aware once more, the light was different yet again, and this time she heard activity in the main room. Her head felt better, except for the knot in her skull, and she stretched experimentally in the bed. At that point the door eased open and Tara stuck her head inside. "Oh, you're awake finally!"

"Hi," said Jenny hesitantly.

"What the heck did you eat, anyway?" Tara asked, coming fully into the room and pausing by the side of the bed. "You were asleep when Dania and I came back from the amusement park, and still out of it when we got back from the luau. You missed a terrific time and some fabulous eats. I don't think you woke up once all night."

Jenny stared at her and sat up in bed; her muscles felt a little stiff, but everything was in working order. "You mean it's Sunday morning?"

"Yup, 'fraid so." Tara sat on the bed and peered curiously at her. "Are you sure you're okay, Jenny? You look kind of pale."

"I guess I'll have to remember never to eat any more exotic seafood," Jenny said with a weak smile. Tara rolled her eyes, and Jenny went on, "Where're Brian and Dania?"

"Dania's in the main room having some breakfast, and heck knows where Brian got off to. He never came home all night—his bed's still made up." Tara shrugged dismissively and studied her older sister. "What a shame, Jenny. You go and win this fantastic vacation, and you haven't had a bit of fun this whole time. If that isn't the height of bad luck, then nothing is. Do you feel well enough to come out to the beach with me and Dania? She wants to see if she can find some unusual shells."

Jenny struggled to control threatening tears at Tara's sympathy. "Get a load of you, brat," she teased in an attempt to stave them off. "Trying to take care of me. That's Dania's job, you know."

Tara snorted. "Well, she's falling down on it, then. Come on, Jenny, I think you need to sit and soak up some sun. We'll take a bottle of ginger ale for your stomach, and we can watch the waves and let Dania collect shells to her little heart's content. Okay?"

Jenny smiled. "Sounds great to me. Just let me get dressed." She watched Tara leave the room and sighed heavily, letting her head fall back, staring at the diaphanous bed canopy overhead. _You have no idea just how bad my luck really is, little sister…_

‡ ‡ ‡

Leslie descended the porch steps, double-checking a list she carried, and then stopped when she heard something strange. She slowly looked up and around; Lauren stood beside the fountain, leaning in and holding both hands under the dancing spray, a beatific expression on her face. Leslie stared at her for a full twenty seconds before she realized that the noise she heard was Lauren's humming.

"Where the heck were you yesterday?" she demanded, approaching her friend. "We waited for you for over an hour before we gave up. Tabitha was talking about sending out a search party."

Lauren blinked twice at this revelation and then burst out laughing. "That figures."

"Well? Spill it, McCormick," Leslie persisted.

Lauren shook water off her hands and regarded her friend. "Sorry for standing you up," she said breezily, "but, well…something came up."

"And that something would be…what?" prompted Leslie.

To her bewildered amazement, Lauren giggled and threw her hands into the air, spinning around in place like a little girl. "This has to be the best weekend of my whole life!" she sang out before turning to Leslie with an excited gleam in her eyes. "I'm in love, Leslie. I really think I am. I met this absolutely wonderful guy yesterday afternoon—he's here on a vacation with his niece and sisters. We met at the marina and started talking, and one thing led to another, and he rented a boat and we took a picnic out to sea and spent the entire afternoon talking and talking…and then it just took off somehow. He stayed at my place last night. It was just incredible how well we clicked, and I really think I've found my soulmate. And last night was…" She grinned deliriously and threw both arms over her head, pirouetting on one toe, while Leslie gaped incredulously at her. "There aren't words. There just aren't words to describe last night. Oh Leslie, I'm nuts about him!"

"Well, you're nuts all right," Leslie commented dubiously, shaking her head. "So what you mean is, you stood us up for a guy."

"Yeah…I'm sorry, but he was just irresistible." Lauren giggled again. "I hope you're not mad. Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing, you or Tabitha or any of the other girls. I know you would've, and don't deny it."

Leslie shrugged, reminded of similar giddy feelings she'd experienced while falling in love with Teppo. "Yeah, I suppose you have a good point there," she mused, looking up and finally cracking a grin. "Okay, okay, you're forgiven…as long as you tell us all about him."

"You got it," Lauren promised. "Well, look, I gotta run…talk to you later!" With that, she skipped away, exactly as if she were six years old. Leslie stared after her till she disappeared around the bend in the lane, then shifted her gaze skyward in supplication, grinning in spite of herself.

Before she could head for the station wagon parked nearby, however, someone hailed her and she turned again to see Rodney Stone striding in her direction. "Well, good morning!" she greeted him, smiling.

"Hi, Leslie," he said, coming around the fountain and grinning at her. "Hey, you look pretty much the same as you did when we were here fifteen years ago."

"Flatterer," Leslie scoffed, and they both laughed. "How's Joanna?"

"Pregnant as all get-out. She's due any day." Rodney shifted his weight and reached up to scratch the back of his neck in a nervous gesture; seeing his change of mood, Leslie slid back into professional mode. "Listen," he said, "do you and Mr. Roarke have a few minutes? I really need to talk."

"Of course, come on in," she said and led the way inside the main house. Roarke looked up from the desk and smiled a welcome.

"Good morning, Mr. Stone. Checking up on the wedding preparations?" he asked.

Rodney grimaced, and Roarke and Leslie looked at each other curiously. "As a matter of fact," Rodney said, "the wedding is one thing I wanted to discuss with you."

"By all means," Roarke agreed and gestured at the chairs. "Please, make yourself comfortable. Is there anything we can get you?"

"No, thanks," Rodney said. "Just had breakfast at the hotel, actually."

"The hotel?" echoed Leslie, settling into the chair beside Rodney's.

Rodney reddened. "Yeah, well…I convinced Monica it would create some anticipation for the wedding night." He rolled his eyes. "Y'know, Mr. Roarke, I'm so full of baloney, I scare myself sometimes. She bought it with almost no trouble at all, and the whole time I was feeling relieved that I could sleep alone."

"I see," said Roarke, his tone indicating the opposite.

"The fact is," Rodney said, leaning forward, "this whole wedding is a farce. This marriage is nothing more than a business arrangement. Once Monica and I are husband and wife, she bails out Stonecyphers, and I save the livelihoods of dozens of people. It'll benefit them, and I'm sure it'll benefit Monica; she really wants to marry me, although I can't for the life of me figure out why. She's old money and I'm a struggling small-business owner."

"So you are having serious doubts about the wedding," Roarke said. "Have you discussed this with Miss Gold?"

"I don't think she'd hear me," Rodney said, frustrated. "I just don't see any way out of this mess—not if I want to save Stonecyphers." He sighed, then seemed to remember something and sat up. "Mr. Roarke, did you know that Jenny Knight is here?"

"Yes," Roarke said, "we do. Have you seen her?"

"I christened her with a Tom Collins at the pool yesterday," he admitted with a self-deprecating grin. "She took it well. We got to talking…" His voice trailed off and he stared into space for a few moments, while Roarke and Leslie waited patiently. Eventually he gave a sharp headshake. "I feel like hell about what I did to her." He explained Jenny's mention of her trust fund and his own vehement refusal of her budding offer. "I don't want her seeing me as some damn charity case. I get enough of that from Monica."

Roarke settled back in his chair, while Leslie regarded Rodney curiously. "I think I'm missing something here," she said slowly. "Are you willing to put up with it from Monica, when you won't take it from anyone else?"

"I can't seem to stop her," Rodney protested. "I keep telling Monica to quit hovering over me and hanging on my every little step, but she doesn't listen."

"But you are willing to marry her in spite of it," Roarke pointed out.

"Well, I gotta save my business," Rodney insisted.

Leslie shook her head. "I'm still missing something. You won't take Jenny's money, but you'll actually marry Monica to get hers."

Rodney whipped around to stare at her. "But Monica's in love with…" He trailed off again as her question and his own response sank in, and he let himself fall back in his chair while the wheels turned furiously in his brain.

Finally Leslie said gently, "So is Jenny, you know."

It was clear that Rodney's thought processes hadn't gotten that far and he cranked his head around to stare at her again. Finally he asked, "How do you know so much?"

Leslie smiled a little with sympathy. "It was Jenny's fantasy to see you again." She briefly explained how Jenny had used the trip she'd won to request her fantasy; Rodney listened, his face looking more and more stunned.

"And I blew her off," he groaned when she finished, scrubbing one hand across his face and raking it through his hair. "I really am a first-class jerk. I did try to find her at the luau last night, but she wasn't there…don't know why."

Roarke, who had let his daughter take the reins momentarily, now sat up and leaned over the desk a bit. "Mr. Stone, if you are to marry Miss Gold but prefer to keep company with Miss Knight…perhaps you had better examine your feelings for both ladies very carefully. Whatever your decision, someone will be hurt, and you must tread lightly."

"Yeah," Rodney mumbled, facing the full magnitude of the situation and thinking for a moment. Then he met Roarke's gaze. "Fact is, Mr. Roarke, I think it's a foregone conclusion. Monica may be in love with me, or at least think she is…but she's always known this is a business arrangement. I've made it clear to her from the outset that I don't have any feelings for her. For that matter, I've never figured out just why she wants me, when we operate in two completely different social strata." He sighed deeply and drummed his fingers on the chair arm before nodding to himself. "So I think the course of action is pretty obvious. I'd better talk to Monica."

As he rose, Roarke looked at Leslie and remarked somewhat whimsically, "Perhaps you had better add another item to that list, Leslie, and pay a visit to Julie." Because of the size of her property and her culinary skills, Julie's B&B had become the most popular place on the island to hold weddings.

Rodney paused and grinned at Roarke. "Don't act too quickly, Mr. Roarke," he said. "If my plan works out—well, I'll let you know." He hurried out of the house, and Roarke and Leslie both laughed.

"Maybe now I can get to work on those errands," she said. "If he comes back before I do, let me know what happened." Roarke laughingly promised, and she exited the house in Rodney's wake to finally get started on her list.

Rodney used a shortcut path to get back to the bungalow he shared with Monica, trying to map out what he would tell both her and Jenny. However, his thoughts ground to a halt when he came into the bungalow and saw Monica eating the last of a leisurely breakfast, alone at the dining table, looking a bit forlorn. She gave him an accusing look when she caught sight of him. "You could at least have come back and had breakfast with me."

Rodney sighed and slowly approached the table. "Monica, I'm afraid we need to have a long talk," he said slowly, trying to think of the best way to break it to her.

But his tone of voice tipped her off somehow. "You want to call off the wedding, don't you?" she asked point-blank.

Rodney felt his face heat up and nodded sheepishly. "Yeah…look, you're a fantastic woman, and any guy would consider it a privilege to call you his wife. But I've told you from the start, I just don't feel that way about you. And it really seems mercenary for me to marry you just so I have an infusion of cash to bail out Stonecyphers."

"You weren't going to take that money anyway, were you?" Monica asked, remarkably calm, getting to her feet and dabbing at her mouth with a cloth napkin. "I knew you were upset that you didn't seem to have any other way of saving your company." She dropped the napkin and gazed at him, her distress finally showing on her face. "All this time you've been saying you'll find some way to do it, yet you couldn't seem to find that way; so I thought it was all right. I guess I should have listened to you after all."

Rodney hesitated a long moment, studying her, then giving in at last. "Monica, this'll probably sound awful, but it's been bugging me for ages. Why, exactly, did you want to marry me, knowing I didn't love you and knowing that we're really too different to make it work out between us?"

To his surprise, she began to turn red, and her gaze dropped. He actually heard her swallow before she replied in a small, embarrassed voice. "You were always such a gentleman. You treated me with respect and dignity, and you never looked at me and saw nothing but dollar signs and a life on easy street, like all the other men I ever met or that Daddy's tried to introduce me to. Not only that, you were always honest and up-front with me." She finally looked up and managed a slightly wobbly smile. "It made me feel like a real person for the first time, and I guess I thought we could build something from that."

Rodney smiled back, touched despite himself. "Monica, there's gotta be someone out there for you. They say there's someone for everyone. It just takes longer for some of us, I guess. You know what I think? I think you should extend your stay here. I've always heard that a lot of couples meet on this island. You never know what could happen."

She nodded slowly, then peered at him with new recognition. "It happened to you, didn't it, Rodney? You met someone here too."

He stared at her. "I don't know how you women figure these things out. But, yeah, I did. For the second time, actually. And now I want to see if she'll have me." He shrugged and chuckled self-consciously. "Like I said, you're a really terrific woman, and you're going to make some lucky guy an excellent wife. I don't think most other women would have been half as understanding as you have." He leaned forward and pecked her on the cheek. "Thank you, Monica. I think you set us both free."

She smiled wistfully. "I think so too. Go find her, Rodney, and I wish you both the best of everything and all the happiness and success you deserve."

"You too," he said, "and I really mean that. Call your father and tell him you're gonna stay longer, and then do it. Let yourself fly and find that guy."

"I will," she said with cheerful determination. "As a matter of fact, I'm going to go and check with Mr. Roarke, and see if this bungalow is available for the next two weeks." She grinned at him and left at a half-run. Rodney turned with a light step and headed for the bedroom to pack the rest of his belongings.


	6. Chapter 6

§ § § -- September 11, 1994

Jenny poked through her tote bag and groaned. "Oh, no. I forgot to bring my sunscreen out here. That has to be a really boneheaded move."

"Use mine," said Tara, going through her bag as well and then grinning stupidly at her sister. "On the other hand, don't…"

They looked at each other and abruptly broke into laughter. "Dania and her shells," Jenny said, casting an affectionate glance down the beach to where Dania could be seen poking through the sand with her toes. "It's all her fault for dragging us out in such a hurry. Who wants to go back for the sunscreen?" She suddenly hoped Tara would volunteer; she had no doubt that Ray would be lurking around the bungalow.

"Guess I will," Tara said, already getting onto her feet. "You've spent way too much time in that bungalow as it is, so you stay right here and wait. And wrap my towel around you to keep out the sun till I get back." She shook sand off her towel and dropped it in Jenny's lap before trotting back up the beach.

Jenny draped the towel around her shoulders and drew up her knees, folding her arms over them and resting her chin on one forearm, gazing out to sea. There was a hypnotic effect to the waves, and the crashing surf soothed her, lulling her into daydreams. So she was quite startled when Dania's shadow fell across her and the girl said, "Mom?"

She squinted up at Dania's face in the sunlight. "Hi, sweetie, what's up?"

"Just checking to see if you're all right. You looked spaced out," Dania said, grinning. Her face lit with excitement and she displayed a mesh bag at Jenny. "You should just see all these cool shells I'm picking up. They're all gorgeous! Can I go over that way and try to find some more? I won't stay away long, I promise." She pointed down the beach, which curved gently around a clump of palms.

Jenny looked around her; the beach was sparsely populated, but she wasn't alone. So she nodded, feeling reasonably safe. "Okay, but don't go where I can't see you."

"Got it," said Dania. "Thanks, Mom, you're the best!" She pounded away across the sand, bag swinging at her side. Jenny watched her go and tried to remember when she was eleven years old and had not a care on earth.

"Hey, babe…" She stiffened in shock at Ray's voice, softly menacing, right beside her ear. "You knew it was just a matter of time, didn't ya? And I bet you thought you'd be all safe and sound out here on the beach. You and me got some talking to do."

"We've done all our talking," Jenny muttered through clenched teeth. The knot in the back of her head began to subtly throb again, as if in reminder. "Although with you, I notice there aren't a lot of words involved."

Ray threw the towel off her and hauled her onto her feet with a brutal grab-and-yank that he had perfected over time. "I keep telling you not to talk back to me," he growled, "but you never listen, do you? I saw you out here, waiting for that guy. Figured you'd get away with it out here in public, huh? What I got to say is private, so you're coming with me."

"But I can't leave Dania," Jenny protested desperately.

"Dania's old enough to take care of herself for awhile," Ray said, towing her in his wake even as he spoke. "No guy's coming along to take you away from me, and I mean it. I don't know what else it takes to get you to see the light…" He ranted and complained as he dragged Jenny with him; she struggled to stay on her feet, panic blooming within her at every step. She kept trying to see around her, hoping someone would come along and thwart Ray's plans, but Ray obviously knew where he was going. He'd said he had been here some two months; that was plenty of time to learn the paths on this island and find the most secluded spot he could to do his damage.

On a path that cut through some decidedly dense jungle, Ray abruptly stopped and threw her against the trunk of a palm, knocking the breath out of her momentarily. It was long enough for him to move in and frame her face with both hands, his touch strangely gentle but his smile cruel. "Right here, babe. What a setting, huh? Loads of exotic tropical flowers, birds singing…perfect place for me to remind you what we had together." Before Jenny had enough time to derive his meaning, Ray grabbed the neck of her tank top with both hands and pulled with all his strength, ripping the shirt in two and right off her. At the same time he ground his mouth down on hers. Her scream funneled into his mouth, making him intensify the painful travesty of a kiss.

_Oh God, he's going to rape me,_ Jenny realized with horror. It would be a first for Ray, who had up till now always resorted to inflicting external pain. Terror completely overtook her and she reverted to instinct, fighting madly to get away from him and making him even more enraged than he already was. Panic gave her extra strength and Ray found it unusually difficult to control her, though he certainly didn't let it deter him. Once she managed to get her face free, and she sucked in a hard, sharp gasp and let her scream ring through the trees. "Go ahead, nobody'll hear you," Ray grunted, trying to rip off the rest of her clothing while she fought him.

"What on God's green earth is going on here?" someone suddenly demanded in shock. Ray froze, then turned and found himself staring at a stunned Rodney Stone. Jenny gasped and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to cover what Ray had exposed. Ray's eyes narrowed when he recognized Rodney.

"You're the guy Jenny was talking to yesterday! If you know what's good for you, you'll get your tail outta here while I deal with my ex-wife," he snarled.

"No, please…Rodney, help me!" Jenny cried out, terrified.

With a swift glance Rodney took in her condition and her expression, then shifted his scrutiny to Ray and shook his head. "If you have to rape a woman to get her attention, pal, then you must be one truly colossal loser."

"Get outta here before I beat you into a pulp too," Ray shouted, rapidly advancing on Rodney with clenched fists. "First you, then her."

"Rodney, watch out!" Jenny screamed.

Distracted, Ray paused long enough to point at her and roar, "Shut up and wait your turn, you hear me? 'Cause you're gonna be next!" It gave Rodney all the time he needed, and he balanced on his good leg and swung the other high into the air with incredible speed in a karate kick that connected very satisfyingly with Ray's neck. The sound of the impact made Jenny's stomach turn. Ray wrapped his hands around his throat, gurgled and gagged, and sank to the ground, face gradually going from deep red to an alarming shade of purple.

Jenny stared at him while Rodney came to her and lifted her chin with his gentlest possible touch. "Are you okay, Jenny? You're not hurt or anything?"

"N-no," she managed, finally meeting his gaze with stunned eyes. "My God…Rodney, what'd you do? Did you break his neck?"

Rodney shrugged, suddenly self-conscious, and glanced behind him to where Ray was struggling to draw breath, gagging with every attempt. "Nah, I didn't break his neck—if I had, he wouldn't be moving. But I think I hit him in the jugular."

Jenny's hand automatically went to her own throat and she goggled at him, saucer-eyed. "When did you learn karate?"

Rodney's grin was self-deprecating. "Part of my ongoing therapy in my teens and twenties to help strengthen my bad leg. I'll always have a limp, they said, but I'd have much better use of it and keep the muscles in good shape." He spied something on the ground and picked up her torn tank top. "Aw, Jenny…he was gonna rape you, wasn't he?"

She nodded, still too shocked to react at the moment. "If you hadn't come along…"

He smoothed back her hair. "I was looking for you anyway, and someone told me this was a shortcut to the beach. Lucky I found you here."

Jenny stared up at him and suddenly grinned a little, delirium beginning to creep over her. "Yeah…lucky all right. I should tell you about my luck sometime."

Rodney chuckled and gathered her into his embrace. "Look, let's get you off to your bungalow so you can get some fresh clothes and we can call someone about him." They both eyed Ray, who by now had toppled to the ground, still concentrating on breathing. There was a loud rattle in his throat with every inhalation. "He's gonna need medical help as it is, so we might as well call the paramedics as well as the cops."

Jenny nodded slowly and let him lead her along the trail in the direction from which Rodney had come. "Rodney…what about Monica Gold?"

"That's why I was looking for you," Rodney explained. "The wedding's off, Jenny. I just couldn't do it—I'd have been marrying her solely for her money, and even though we both knew it, in the end it went against everything I was raised to believe. I talked to her this morning and then came to find you. I was going to ask you if…" He cut himself off, cast a glance behind them and then hesitantly met her gaze. "Although I don't think you'd be up to answering at all, never mind telling me what I hope to hear, after what he did to you."

But Jenny was feeling remarkably lighthearted all of a sudden, with Rodney and his unexpected karate knowledge to bolster her spirits. "Try me anyway," she suggested.

"Well, okay then." Rodney stopped them in the path and faced her. "Will you marry me, Jenny Knight?"

She stared at him in amazement, her eyes going enormous again. "What made you…"

"I'll tell you later," he said, placing a finger over her lips and grinning at her. "Just answer the question."

"In that case, the answer is yes," Jenny replied. A grin spread over her features. "So you're not down on one knee and I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion—it doesn't matter to me. My fantasy ended in the best way possible."

Rodney hugged her hard, and she snuggled up against him, feeling safe for the first time since her marriage to Ray. "By the way…I looked for you last night at the luau," he said. "I wanted to apologize to you for what I said at the pool. Where were you?"

Jenny sighed and explained about Ray's first visit to the bungalow the day before. "I just didn't feel like facing anyone and having to tell them he was there, so I holed up in the bedroom and wound up sleeping the rest of the day and all night." She gazed at him as they ambled along. "Since you're marrying me now instead of Monica, what about your business?"

"Oh," said Rodney. "Well…I'll come up with something. If I have to sell my house, I will. If you don't mind living in an apartment for awhile…"

Jenny didn't reply right away, mulling over his words. "I don't have a problem with living in an apartment, but I have to wonder if you'd get angry again if I make a suggestion."

"Like what?" Rodney asked.

"Like the one I tried to make at the pool yesterday. Before you say anything, let me finish. What I was going to offer is that I invest in Stonecyphers using my trust fund. You can get the company back on its feet; and when it's making money, you can pay it back in dividends. Does that satisfy your pride?" She smiled to take the sting out of the words.

Rodney stared at her, astonished. "You wanted to _invest_ in Stonecyphers?" She nodded and he groaned aloud, letting his head fall back in self-disgust. "Rodney Stone, you are the biggest moron who ever lived, no question about it! Aw, Jenny…I'm so sorry. I really am. I was so worked up over Monica and the wedding and my financial problems…I just didn't think. Too many people have assumed I'm less capable than I am just because of this limp, and too many others felt sorry for me and made offers a lot like what I almost went into with Monica. Somehow I conveniently forgot that you never seemed to see my limp, right from that first time we met each other back in '79. I should've known after you came up to me that weekend and asked if I'd take you to the luau."

"I never cared about your limp," Jenny said comfortably, pulling the torn tank top closed around her as they emerged into the lane that led to the bungalows. "I noticed it, of course, but I figured it was just part of you and your past, part of what made you Rodney Stone. And you know, there's something incredibly cool and heroic about a guy whose limp is capable of taking out bad guys."

Rodney roared with laughter and hugged her again. "You're way too good for my ego, Jenny. Come on and let's take care of our particular bad guy once and for all, so I can meet Dania and hopefully pass muster, and then we can get married right here on this island before you slip through my fingers again."


	7. Chapter 7

§ § § -- September 12, 1994

There were six people in the group that stood in front of Roarke and Leslie at the plane dock on Monday morning. Rodney and Jenny Stone stood arm-in-arm and beaming, with an equally cheerful Dania Branham in front of them; Tara Knight was grinning like a maniac; and, particularly to Leslie's surprise, Brian Knight and Lauren McCormick stood on Tara's other side, holding hands and looking somewhat self-conscious but very happy.

"So this is the guy you were rhapsodizing about yesterday?" Leslie asked, surveying Lauren curiously. Roarke slanted a curious look of his own at Leslie.

Lauren shrugged, her grin turning sheepish. "Hey, well, I just never really got around to telling everyone about him. Anyway, seeing as he turned out to be a guest of yours, you probably already know everything." Leslie rolled her eyes and they all laughed. "I'm going back to Oregon with him and visit him there for the rest of my vacation. I think we've got something really special here, and I want to give it a chance to develop."

"Me too," said Brian. "I never thought I'd find the right woman and I'd kind of given up, and then I met my boat lady here. Don't worry, Leslie, I promise to send her back home in one piece so you and your friends can grill her to death." More laughter greeted that, and Brian and Lauren made their farewells and headed for the plane. Tara and Dania followed suit; as Brian escorted Lauren along, they heard him ask her, "You were _rhapsodizing?"_

Chuckling with the Stones and Roarke, Leslie turned to Rodney and Jenny. "You two had such a gorgeous wedding. I'm glad all the preparations didn't turn out to be for nothing. But Jenny, how did you feel about using something meant for another woman?"

Jenny shrugged. "I'm not going to argue about it. My first wedding was a backyard affair and I wore my old prom dress to it, on Ray's insistence. This one was so much better and so much more romantic, I don't care who it was originally intended for. This time around, I really _feel_ married." She stretched on tiptoe to kiss Rodney's cheek, then leaned over to bestow another on Roarke's. "Thank you, Mr. Roarke, for granting my fantasy. Right now, I feel like the luckiest person in the world."

"I'm very glad to hear it," Roarke said and smiled broadly. "May you have a full, rich and happy life together, and a safe and pleasant journey home."

They watched Rodney and Jenny stroll along up the dock, returning their final farewell waves, before Roarke turned to Leslie. "I wasn't aware you had seen Lauren at all this weekend, since you complained rather loudly on Saturday afternoon that she had stood you girls up for a late lunch."

"Oh, she was dancing around the fountain yesterday morning, acting like a nut case," Leslie said, watching the plane begin to taxi across the lagoon. "That's okay. Wait till she gets back home…we're going to show her absolutely no mercy whatsoever."

Roarke let his gaze slide skyward. "I feel sorry for her already." He responded with raised eyebrows to Leslie's dirty look just as the car came around to take them home, saving him from whatever retort she might be trying to dream up.

**THE END**


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